On the odd occasion that I allow myself to over imbibe beverages of the alcoholic persuasion nothing hits the spot the next morning better than a sports beverage. My go-to drink of choice when my head is spinning and nausea is creeping over me in waves is a blue Powerade. Blue Gatorade will do in a pinch as well, but by and large blue powerade is where it’s at. It’s electrolytes a-kimbo and in combination with vibrant blue hue it brings near instant calm to my shaking, dehydrated – not for lack of trying – body.

There is, however, one problem with blue Powerade, and most – if not all – other sports drinks as a matter of fact. This is the sealing process.

Sports beverages are often equipped with a handy “sports cap” from which you can spray the beverage into your – and presumably the rest of your team’s – mouth. While not a fan of said bottle tops this is not in itself the problem. The problem is that the sports caps have two seals that need to be broken to get at the life-giving liquid within; one atop the sports cap and one – for some reason – under the lid secured to the bottle rim.

WHY?

I don’t think any other types of drinks have this, frankly excessive, method of sealing and I postulate that the reason for double seal is less practical and more marketing. To my way of thinking the only possible explanation for the extra topper is to make the beverage appear more “medicinal” in nature. Like labelling something as a “natural health product” my hypothesis is that the extra lid is intended to make people forget that their glugging sugar water and have them instead imagine their supping 710ml of prescription strength thirst quencher.

I could maybe appreciate the effort in that if I wasn’t dying of thirst and barely grasping the dexterity to skillfully navigate the labyrinth of lids whenever I buy Powerade. Also, I wonder if this really works? If this is a marketing decision then they probably did research into the psychological effects of the extra lid before laying out the cash for it but I would imagine hangovers are a big market for the sports-enhanced beverage sector and that a quick access bottle could be an advantage not unlike easy-lid aspirin for those suffering with arthritis.

Upon reflection this is quite obviously a very first world problem but one that I grapple with nonetheless.

So after the shenanigans of the previous evening we arose from bed at the perfectly reasonable hour of two in the afternoon. Feeling refreshed (if a little worse for wear) three intrepid explorers departed the apartment for adventures as yet unknown.

We went to the pub.

Actually I think there was perhaps some sort of lunchtime meetup somewhere in there but being both jetlagged and murderously hungover my faculties were not at their best; there was a big EUFA game on that night so Matt, Heather and I headed to the nicest most inexpensive watering hole we could find. The local Weatherspoon’s (The Standing Order) did not disappoint. We ate drank and became particularly merry, later meeting up with other wedding revellers for continued merriment.

As the night wore on and the bell rang for last call many in our party called it a night with the wedding looming the next day. Some might call these people wise. Needless to say I did not head home at this point, instead roving the streets of Edinburgh with Matt, Heather, and now the aforementioned Janet in tow. Upon being told nearly everywhere was closing we politely inquired as to the closest local drinking hole still serving. "Karma” a door lady told us, “but whatever you do don’t go there.”

I should hope at this point it is obvious that we visited Karma.

En route, however, we met a policeman – who almost missed an emergency call because he discovered we were Canadian and wanted to chat about the Vancouver Canucks – and later parted ways with, an at this point infuriated, Janet who had lost her gay – for whom we had traipsed halfway across Edinburgh only to discover he was at the other end and had given us bum, as it were, directions.

Upon arrival at Karma we paid a very reasonable cover and descended some dodgy stairs into what can only be described as the tackiest club in Britain (keeping in mind that I’ve imbibed at The Masquerade in Liverpool). While at Karma we purchased some ludicrously inexpensive drinks, were escorted from the dance floor after hauling said drinks with us to shake our tail feathers, and witnessed no less than two fights unfold. It was fabulous.

We later emerged from the club bleary-eyed and ready for food but upon standing in line at a nearby taxi rank and chatting with some locals we were dismayed to discover that everything in the immediate vicinity had closed for the night. This man spoke with true authority having just returned from a closing kebab shop with a carrier bag full of styrofoam containers. Being an all-round good egg he actually offered us a container full of chips. We couldn’t take food from a stranger could we? Actually we politely declined his offer until he placed the container on the ground and said so strong was his desire to be gentlemanly that he would leave the chips if we didn’t consume them; although Matt still had reservations. Cut to me and Heather scarfing a box of chips as our cab happily whizzed us back to our now familiar accommodation.

We quickly ended up back at the ScotMid and later eating a cornucopia of pre-packed food from the floor of our rented apartment as the new morning sun began to flood the room indicating it was once again time for sleep.

As many of you are no doubt already aware, i spent Hallowe’en weekend in seattle with jo-ann and trevor. The trip started off with a somewhat ill-fated trip to Tan Popo for all-you-can-eat sushi. The sushi and assorted Japanese foods were fantastic, my ill-fated remark refers rather to Trevor’s stomach and his need to share it’s relative fullness for the rest of the night via assorted grunts and groans which Jo-ann and I only put up with because we were both well-sauced by this point.

The next morning it was up and out (at least in theory) on our way to Seattle. Trevor and Jo-ann had rented a fantastic grey Prius for our little road trip south of the border and somewhat predictably I now want one – in all fairness so does Jo-ann. Anyway, the road trip was lovely and we soon arrived at the home of Cale and Sacha. Needless to say, drinking ensued. That night we were off to Showbox SoDo – which was a wicked venue, like a big old warehouse, making me feel very much like i was Kyra Sedgewick in the movie ‘Singles’ – to see The Airborne Toxic Event who were brilliant. We did shots of tequila and drank supercans of PBR all night and it was amazing. (BTW, my favourite song by The Airborne Toxic Event is Sometime Around Midnight – click to see the video)

The next day was largely a hangover day and we sort of hung around the house acclimatising to the surprising warmth of Seattle. Later Trevor and I ventured out to the supermarket unsupervised which proved somewhat disastrous as it was not unlike two Id’s who’d left their Ego at home. We came back with over $100 worth of beer, chips, and pop, and beer only costs (!) $10 a case in the states. Any man who can pass a bag of Lay’s Limon or a six-pack of Land Shark Lager is a stronger man than I.

That night we stayed in and watched some terrible hallowe’en fare. The best of the three movies we watched was called ‘Shrooms’ and it was about some supposed friends who flew from America to Ireland on holiday to take mushrooms. I say supposed friends because very early into the film we found ourselves wondering why people who hated eachother as much as this bunch did would waste a thousand-ish dollars flying across the atlantic to spend a holiday together. Furthermore, are there no drugs in America? Who flies to Ireland to take mushrooms? Is this some sort of trend I don’t know about? Is this what all the kids are doing these days? Needless to say all but one of the “friends” ended up dead and the killer, after getting away with all the murders, escaped, for some reason, into the forest. It actually wasn’t a terrible movie apart from these and maybe a few more plot holes. We also watched ‘Stan Helsing’ which was just plain fucked up.

The next day it was time for some sightseeing in downtown Seattle starting with Pike Place Market. We stopped in for a Starbucks, Jo-ann had a thing for the fishermen, and Trevor, for some reason, drank a Hangtown Mary which included a raw oyster dangling nausea-inducingly from a cocktail pick. Later, despite protest from Jo-ann, we ascended the Space Needle which was actually properly amazing. It’s not right in the downtown core so you have a view of that, Puget Sound, and the whole surrounding area. Also, you can walk outside right the way around which is really cool; we had a drink up there and all loved it.

Later, we all kitted up and proceeded to get our drink on. After some initial indecision Sacha decided on Dorothy over Lederhosen, Cale topped his outfit up with a mustache, and I affixed my Cher wig and slipped into my poncho. Upon leaving the house Trevor was already quite drunk, rather foreshadowing the events that later transpired, but at this point each of us were blissfully unaware of anyone’s drunkenness but our own.

After arriving at Showbox at the Market – again, amazing – we got stamps on our wrists and proceeded to enjoy the party-time sounds of Seattle’s very own Cool-Ade. It was a brilliant party and then all of a sudden Cale came up to the rest of us and said that Trevor had been kicked out for being too drunk. After some initial disappointment Cale hatched the rather masterful plan of re-dressing Trevor in some extra bits and pieces, including my poncho and wig (I was also wearing a fantastic psychedelic shirt). So Cale painstakingly removes the Fred Flintstone costume from the now balance-challenged Trevor and replaces it with the wig and poncho. Only after he is fully re-dressed does Trevor point out the big black X that is drawn over the entry stamp on his wrist, precluding him from returning at all.

After a fall in the parking lot and the poncho moving again from Trevor, back to me, and then to Sacha, we’re now on our way home and out of downtown Seattle having only arrived an hour previous. All is going swimmingly again until we’re speeding down the freeway and Trevor decides to open his door to vomit. Only we’re going 65 MPH. And he’s not wearing his seatbelt. So a bit of shitstorm unleashes in the car and Jo-ann and I are trying to hold onto Trevor as his relieves his turbulent stomach onto the busy road (and a little bit onto the car door).

Now, just as we’re trying to find our way back onto the freeway after diverging in order to let Trevor finish up what do we see but A LANDSHARK BILLBOARD! Realizing that this is indeed a stupendous moment Sacha pulls the car to a hault and Cale and I dance a jig beneath it as Jo-ann tries capture the moment on film rather unsuccessfully.

Upon arriving home Trevor headed straight for bed and despite thinking it was a good idea to drug him awake – we failed – the night died down after that. Needless to say Trevor woke up with the mater and pater of all hangovers and we hit the road home.

En route we stopped to get Jack In The Box which was BRILLIANT, Jo-ann decided she needed to try every flavour of vitamin water, and Trevor usurped a coat that I liked at the outlet mall for his own – coatstealer. Finally, the next day we had lunch at the Black Frog before Jo-ann and Trevor had to head back to their real lives in the Big Onion. It was a fabulous trip.

A few things I learned:
1. Trevor’s new nickname is Captain Obvious as he has an uncanny ability for vocalising the obvious.
2. Showbox is fantastic. Go there if you’re in Seattle.
3. Ditto, the Space Needle, it’s surprisingly good.
4. Avoid Trinity night club at all costs. It was aweful and an event transpired as confusing as it was angering.
5. I am quite good at the playing the drums in Rock Band.
6. Do not show Trevor a coat you like at an outlet mall.
7. Lay’s Limon are amazing. (Why do we not have them in Canada?)
8. Jo-ann and I are quite good at swaying a la Sonny and Cher, or at least we seemed to be after a few drinks.
9. Bluto may be the best name ever in the history of horror films.
10. Do not go to Ireland to take shrooms.

so i’ve been a bit busy over the past few days preparing for and then actually going out for st. patrick’s day, followed by the subsequent hangover day and further subsequent ‘oh shit i have a bunch of schoolwork that still needs doing’ day. now i’m finally caught up myself i can get blaught up.

so last saturday i decided to ignore my better judgement and hit the mall (west ed) in an effort to find the perfect green shirt to wear on st. patrick’s day. i hate going to the mall on saturdays but it was the only day that i really had free to shop. so i gird myself on the bus and then as i arrive to a packed mall on saturday afternoon i immediately notice – to my horror – that there are cheerleaders everywhere. WTF! as i wander in to the mall i quickly realize that there is some sort of cheerleading event taking place on the ice rink and i right the urge to run back to the bus stop there and then.

ok, so now i’m controlling run away while trying to traverse the absolutly packed mall. rage is bubblng up inside me but i’m mainting control by looking at fabulous expensive things: turquoise and white lacoste runners in town shoes, a new iMac at the apple store etc. realizing the need for a game plan in this most chaotic of locales i decide to hit club monaco – on the off chance that i can afford a simple and well-tailored green shirt – and h&m – cheap – immediatly as my best chance of departing the mall in timely fashion.

first stop club monaco. immediately my stress levels rachet down a few notches in the calm oasis of moderately expensive goods. there are no bitchy teens in sight, almost like there is a some sort of sensor near the entrance that turns away anyone with a predilection for miley cyrus or high school musical. i’m already enjoying the ambience when ‘love is the key’ by girls aloud pumps out of the stereo to elevate my mood to near bliss. it is that this piont – with me floating on a girls aloud induced cloud – that i find a table of sale shirts marked down from 99 to 29 dollars – ALL GREEN. i am at this point wondering if i’m trapped in some wonderful dream but i quickly dash that and grab a few shirts to try. not only are the sales staff lovely and helpful in getting me changeroom but as i am changing another girls aloud song floats down from the stereo system – as if from heaven – this time ‘the promise.’

armed with two of the three shirts – one for st. paddy’s day, another for working – i head for the cashier who complements my dress sense and with whom i have a rather engaging conversation about music and how fabulous i look in bold patterns. i only wish there was someway to bypass the whole mall in my exit from club monaco as i then had to traverse the cesspits of west ed hell after my retail nirvana at the club. it was almost as if the universe was making up for the shitty mall conditions.

conclusion: west ed is the shits, club monaco is perfection, and i was now armed with a fabulous green shirt for st. patrick’s day which was, at this point, fast approaching.

it’s been a few days since i updated the old blog. here are a few reasons why:

1. my life has been quite boring this week. i’m all work-school-sleep-repeat right now which kind of sucks but i’ve been knocking it out of the park school-wise so that’s good.

2. i went to see trevor’s soccer game with jo-ann on wednesday night, followed by a trip to the black dog, and got completely off my face despite the fact that i had to work at 7:30am the next day. this might have been more achievable when i was 17 or 18 but it was a horrific morning at my current age of 26. although that being said, i totally got through it and didn’t even vom. a success in and of itself.

3. i spent the subsequent afternoon, following work, napping and eating until well into the evening and accomplished almost nothing for the entire day.

4. yesterday i spent the morning, quite productively, doing homework before going to school. when i got home i decided that i needed a break from such a full-tilt week and made myself a delicious supper before settling in and watching ‘slumdog millionaire’ and subsequently taking a bath.

i went out with jo-ann last night to zoie’s birthday which was at hudson’s downtown. got very drunk but seem to recall having a fantastic time. the problem is the end of the night is rather hazy and i left my phone in jo-ann’s new coach bag (more on that in a later post). i hate that feeling the morning after a big night when i can’t remember all the details because i worry that i did something hideously embarrassing. this feeling is compounded today by the fact that i left my phone with jo-ann and can therefore not call anyone to verify that i wasn’t a blathering idiot by the end of the night. i remember a few years ago i woke up with a huge black bruise right across my ass and dan (who i was living with at the time) and i spent all morning looking at it trying to figure out what i had done. we later got a phone call from the cannon-turners who explained that i had taken a rather unfortunate tumble down the stairs at suite 69.

anyway it was a fabulous soiree and also quite a strange night in that i ran into a few people that i knew. i had already found out that my friend fayne’s sister worked for zoie at the cupcake bakeshoppe but last i night i also ran into steph tamagi, a girl i used to go to high school with and is now apparently a regular customer of zoie’s. it’s very strange to me that people sort of come and go from your life and reappear at the most inane moments. also that zoie, who i met through jo-ann would turn out to be connected to me via other people as well. small world is such an annoying expression but i do think it’s interesting and perhaps more to do with the fact that the people we choose to surround ourselves with also choose similar people to surround themselves with? am hungover so that is totally making sense to me right now.

my head hurts a little thismorning but i did manage to ingest vitamin b before i got too drunk so my hangover was definitely mitigated to some extent. VITAMIN B IS A MIRACE DRUG! trevor put us all on to it a few years ago and now i rarely leave home without it if i’m going to be imbibing heavily.

UPDATE:
when i was drunk last i also randomly changed the password on my email account and had to try and remember what i had changed it to when i got up thismorning.